


I hate New Year's Eve

by astroenergy



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Bickering, Dysfunctional Relationships, Family Gatherings, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 06:16:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13265460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astroenergy/pseuds/astroenergy
Summary: Shizuo wants to spend New Year's Eve with his family, but Izaya hates family gatherings.





	I hate New Year's Eve

“I hate New Year’s Eve!”

Shizuo has heard this absurd statement so many times by now that he doesn’t even bother roll his eyes.

“It’s so naive. It’s just another evening. And even if it isn’t, even if it’s something special, even if it dictates how the entire year will unfold” his tone leaving no doubt as to how ridiculous he thinks that notion is “I would still choose to spend it alone at home, not surrounded by imbeciles who act as if the world is going to be reborn just because their clocks will tick away another minute.”

Shizuo has gotten better at ignoring these indirect insults in the span of the previous four years. He’s heard them every year without exception, only varying in their degree of cruelness depending on how satisfying or not Izaya’s life has been otherwise. It was a lot harder to put up with his passive aggressive outbursts at first, but after four years of being together and almost two of living together, Shizuo knows that it’s more of a defense than anything else. What or who Izaya is trying to defend himself against is something he hasn’t managed to work out yet, but he’s positive by now that that’s a mystery even to Izaya himself, so he doesn’t linger too much on that thought.

“Besides, I don’t even like these people. It’s no wonder you ended up the way you are.” Another thing Shizuo has learned by now, however, is that there is no way to avoid the conflict; Izaya will only keep getting crueler and more personal until Shizuo snaps at him. “I don’t understand why I have to be subjected to their dull company for yet another year. There’s nothing to talk about, nothing to do in that house. And they treat you like some eight-year-old. I feel as if I’m surrounded by apes.”

“No one’s forcing you to tag along.” That’s cruel on his part and he knows it. It doesn’t take much to make Izaya feel unwanted, more of a burden than a partner, and he wouldn’t be resorting to such passive aggression if the other option wasn’t pure violence. After all, his relationship with Izaya has taught him, among other things, that when two people live as one, they start resembling each other in all kinds of ways.

“Good. Then maybe I should stay home instead of going through the torture of another family dinner with your mediocre parents and your boring brother.”

“You should.”

“I will.”

“Good!”

He’s practically grinding his teeth by now, feeling the tension spread across the back of his skull, as if someone’s caught him in a death grip. They walk in silence for a few minutes, but it’s not the comfortable type, the type they share in the comfort of their shared home when they are both busy with something or just lounging in their living room, Izaya with a book in his hands, complaining about the volume of the TV Shizuo is watching, while Shizuo rubs the other’s feet as they rest in his lap. This silence is tense, thick with disappointment, anger and resentment that Shizuo knows will not dissipate but by his own intervention. Izaya is capable of holding a grudge for months, walking around the house silent, unresponsive, cold like an ice statue. Worse even, he’s capable of blowing everything up for something as small as the wrong words spoken at the wrong moment. It wouldn’t be the first time, Shizuo can still remember the way his heart had plummeted to his stomach at the sight of Izaya’s side of the closet cleared out, his phones and laptop missing, no note, no answer to his desperate calls and messages. It had taken an entire week to get hold of him and when he had, he’d been left feeling even more lost and desperate; Izaya had travelled to another country, another fucking continent without informing him and it sounded like he didn’t intend to come back any time soon. Shizuo had pleaded with him over the phone, had left more messages in Izaya’s voice mail than he had in the entire span of the decade they’d known each other and one day Izaya was back, dragging his suitcase with his left hand, his laptop case strapped around his body and his eyes set on a look so hard and cold it had stopped Shizuo in his tracks as he had hopefully dashed to the door. _“Next time, I will not come back. If you don’t want me, you can say so now. My things are already packed, I’ll be out of your way for good.”_ Izaya’s posture and tone had been anything but inviting, but Shizuo had been spurred on by the threat of losing him again for good, he had thrown himself on Izaya and he had clung onto him all day and all night, begging for his forgiveness even if he didn’t know what he had done that could warrant such an extreme reaction.

He’s thinking about that day now as he huffs in resignation, spinning around on his heel to catch Izaya’s wrist in his hand, to push him lightly against the wall next to them and shield him off the prying looks of passersby with his body. He’s not surprised that Izaya stubbornly avoids meeting his gaze, keeping his eyes at the level of Shizuo’s shoulder and his mouth shut hard as if trying to keep himself from saying something he will regret. Shizuo would like to bring a hand up and caress the side of his face, feel the way his cheeks have turned icy cold in the winter chill, but they’re in the middle of a busy street and he knows that kind of intimacy would be unwelcome in public. So he settles for rubbing at his wrist instead, ducking his head to force Izaya’s gaze to meet his and the resentment he’s faced with only urges him to slide his fingers from Izaya’s wrist to his fingers, exposed to the cold and feeling like ice as they’re caught between Shizuo’s own. That’s hardly a surprise. Izaya’s hands are usually freezing even in their home, Shizuo’s always teasing him for that, it’s to be expected that they’d be freezing outside in the cold when the fool refuses to wear proper gloves and goes for fingerless mittens instead, more interested in being able to swing his knife or handle his phones with ease than in being warm. Shizuo catches his other hand as well, brings them both to his mouth and blows against them while creating a cage around them with his own hands. Surprisingly enough, Izaya doesn’t pull away. He watches Shizuo’s lips just a breath away from his fingertips, and only glances up to his eyes when they stretch in a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m not spending New Year’s without you.”

Izaya’s eyes remain hard and unforgiving as they stare him down. “Too bad. I meant every word.”

“Will you stop being an asshole?” Shizuo braces his left forearm against the wall to the side of Izaya’s face, dropping his other hand to catch at the side of Izaya’s coat, just to maintain direct contact with him. “I said I’m sorry. I want to spend New Year’s Eve with my family” Izaya opens his mouth to spew pure venom at him but Shizuo doesn’t stop to give him the chance “and you’re part of my family”. This manages to shut him up, even turns his cheeks a darker shade of pink which Shizuo knows is not due to the cold. “I’d be happy to spend the holidays with your family instead, but since your parents are not here, maybe you can bring the girls along”. The look on Izaya’s face remains consciously neutral and Shizuo doesn’t need to think too hard to understand how much effort that takes. Izaya’s parents have always been a touchy subject at best and he’s long abandoned the effort to understand exactly what lies beneath all that defensive aggression. “It would be so nice to be all together when the New Year kicks in!” he offers his most enthused grin to the other’s guarded expression and it earns him a scoff.

“You’re such a simpleton.” Izaya’s stare is challenging, but Shizuo doesn’t bite and the insult is left hanging between them for several moments. It’s Izaya who admits defeat first, sighs in annoyance as he looks away and delivers his next words to the space just over Shizuo’s shoulder. “Your parents couldn’t put up with me and the twins at the same time. They would probably suffer an overdose or burn their brains trying to be nice to all three of us simultaneously”.

That’s not entirely new either, but it succeeds in knocking the grin off Shizuo’s face, even sends him tipping his weight back, as if he has been bodily pushed away. His features settle in a frown that has his brow creasing over his eyes, shadowing the cheerful expression he was wearing just a moment ago. “What are you talking about? My parents love you!”

The laughter that spills through Izaya’s lips is slightly forced, but hurtful nonetheless. “They just put up with me for your sake, but don’t think they don’t pray for a nice pretty girl by your side”.

It’s not that he’s unsure of the nature of their relationship, he doesn’t lose sleep over such things as social conventions regarding gender and sexuality, but this is something that Izaya has hinted to plenty of times in the time they’ve been together. At some point, Shizuo had started wondering if that was just a way of expressing his own doubts about their relationship, but he doesn’t think so, not any more. He attributes this kind of uncertainty to Izaya’s general lack of self-confidence; it’s not so much the fact that he is a man that Shizuo’s parents (as well as his friends and pretty much everyone he knows) protest, according to Izaya, as the fact that he is _him_. And as sad as this is, Shizuo can’t really argue with that. He remembers the way his mother had looked at him after he had first introduced them, how she had held his gaze as she’d asked him if this person was good for him, if Izaya made him happy. He hadn’t hesitated at all and she hadn’t insisted, in fact she had never asked him again and after meeting him a couple more times she had even offered her son a valuable piece of advice: _Be kind to him. Even the hardest soil can bear fruit if you work patiently and devotedly._ Shizuo had taken this to heart, partly because he could see where that comment was coming from. Up close, Izaya was surprisingly timid and unsociable. They had known each other for a few years before they had actually gotten together and Izaya had always given off the vibe of someone who could easily be the soul of the party if he’d wanted to, and not even because he could manipulate pretty much anyone with worrying ease, but simply because of his looks and his intellect. Shizuo almost envied him for the grace with which he went about his everyday life and handled his interactions with people. Getting to know him better had only added to that awe he felt towards him; Izaya was smart and intuitive, always well informed about everything there was to know, from politics and science to art and literature. And yet the closer he got to him, the more obvious it became that Izaya lacked the fundamental self-confidence that made people likeable, that rendered them an agreeable company. Instead, he was burdened with complexes which stemmed from dark corners of his life no one was allowed to look into. Shizuo had struggled with himself for long months at the beginning of their relationship, but in the end he had decided that he wouldn’t want anyone else even if there was anyone else who would want _him_.

He studies Izaya’s face now, cheeks and nose pink from the cold, eyes dark with whatever it is that forces him to constantly kick and claw at everyone and everything that dares come near him, and he repeats his mother’s words to himself: _be kind to him._ “All they want is for me to be happy. And I’m happy with you”. There’s that dark shade of pink again and Izaya is scowling as if angry at the way Shizuo keeps avoiding the fight he’s been working up to all this time. “My parents love you” he stresses it again as if that will be enough for Izaya to finally accept the truth of it “my mother fusses over what to cook in order to please you every year and my father looks forward to your company, you’re the only one he can talk politics with and argue about all that nonsense that only the two of you care about over dinner”. He catches Izaya’s hand again, gives a little squeeze even though the other’s frozen fingers probably can’t feel much at this point and Izaya’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands.

“It’s like a contest” the way he mumbles it, Shizuo isn’t sure he would have heard it if they weren’t so close. “Who’s happier, funnier, nicer, who’s more likeable, who’s doing better at their life, in whatever petty conventional way they have decided everyone’s life should unfold” none of this is directed at Shizuo’s family, clearly, but Shizuo refrains from commenting. “I’ll tell you who that person is _not_ : me!”

“We’re not exactly normal in my family. No one judges you”. He shouldn’t have to point this out, he’s sure Izaya can easily come to that conclusion himself if he cares to. But he chooses not to prod him for the real reasons behind this holiday rant, he’s heard it before and he knows that it’s best to just let Izaya work through his frustration on his own; he offers his support by being there and reminding him that there are people who care about him, without posing questions which would only dig deeper in this open wound.

“Maybe I should come in a dress and heels this year, give your parents the pretty daughter-in-law they’re wishing for. We’d see how tolerant they are then”. This is by far the most absurd thing Izaya has said by now and for once Shizuo is genuinely surprised. His brow arches reflexively and his eyes go wide before he can think to stop his expression from changing. “What do we have here? I didn’t realize Shizu-chan was transphobic”. It could be a tease if his tone wasn’t pure vitriolic.

“I’m… What?” Always trust Izaya to get him flustered, even when he’s making so much effort to be the reasonable adult. “I’m not!” He’s probably going pink himself now. “I’ve never seen you wearing anything even slightly feminine, that’s all. I’d be pretty shocked myself if I saw you in a dress”. Izaya is unimpressed, his eyes narrowed into accusatory slits piercing him. The damned brat is handsome even now. “But you’d probably look hot in a dress”. He means it as he says it and the way Izaya’s gaze goes soft in response brings the smile back to his face. “You would look hot in anything”.

He says it into Izaya’s fingers before kissing them and Izaya is pushing him away so suddenly that he stumbles before he can find his balance again. When he turns, the other’s face is obscured by his hood as he has turned to the side and is waiting for him to find his step so they can move on, but Shizuo can catch some of the colour blossoming across his cheeks when he tips his head to inform him that he’s an idiot. He laughs at that, he can’t deny he loves embarrassing him in public and follows him down the street with his hands in his pockets. The argument is not over yet, he knows, Izaya will keep trying to fight his way out of the family dinner only to begrudgingly accompany him on the actual day. Once there, it will take him half the evening to start feeling comfortable and to engage into relaxed conversation with Shizuo’s family, but once he’s gotten over his awkwardness he will be back to himself again, insulting Kasuka about his bad –as Izaya sees it- choice of movies to star in and his poor taste in fashion,  attempting to shock Shizuo’s father with hints at how his job has him mingling with the underworld on a daily basis and reproaching Shizuo’s mother for constantly trying to feed him. Shizuo will get mad at him for acting like an asshole and they’ll bicker all the way back home. He’ll be regrettably violent in bed that night to vent his frustration, while Izaya will be extra clingy, like he always is after meeting Shizuo’s family. And the first morning of the new year will find them snuggling in bed, with their phones off and the door locked, dead to anyone but each other for the rest of the day. He knows that it’s not exactly a healthy relationship, but he always expected Izaya to be the death of him.


End file.
